Humor in Science and Theology

Scott_Garrison · February 19, 2021, 1:27am

Dale · February 19, 2021, 2:04am

Boo!

EastwoodDC · February 19, 2021, 3:41pm

Three men – Werner Heisenberg, Kurt Godel, and Noam Chomsky – walk into a bar and order a drink.
Heisenberg says, “Well there’s three of us and we’re ordering drinks so we must be inside a joke. I just can’t tell if it’s funny or not.”
Godel replies, “Even if it’s funny, the three of us won’t be able to prove it.”
Chomski says, “What are you talking about? Of course it’s funny. You’re just telling it wrong!”

jpm · February 23, 2021, 4:26pm

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MarkD · February 23, 2021, 4:32pm

And today’s winer is …

LM77 · February 23, 2021, 4:33pm

~ Curls up in the feeble position ~

Dale · February 23, 2021, 5:32pm

That reminds me of spoonerisms:

Will Someone Please Hiccup my Pat

by William Spooner Donald
Horizon, Autumn 1969

One afternoon nearly a hundred years ago the October wind gusted merrily down Oxford’s High Street. Hatless and helpless. a white-haired clergyman with pink cherubic features uttered his plaintive cry for aid. As an athletic youngster chased the spinning topper, other bystanders smiled delightedly – they had just heard at first hand the latest “Spoonerism.”

My revered relative William Archibald Spooner was born in 1844, the son of a Staffordshire county court judge. As a young man, he was handicapped by a poor physique, a stammer, and weak eyesight; at first, his only possible claim to future fame lay in the fact that he was an albino, with very pale blue eyes and white hair tinged slightly yellow.

But nature compensated the weakling by blessing him with a brilliant intellect. By 1868 he had been appointed a lecturer at New College, Oxford. Just then he would have been a caricaturist’s dream with his freakish looks, nervous manner, and peculiar mental kink that caused him – in his own words – to “make occasional felicities in verbal diction.”

Victorian Oxford was a little world of its own where life drifted gently by; a world where splendid intellectuals lived in their ivory towers of Latin, Euclid. and Philosophy; a world where it was always a sunny summer afternoon in a countryside, where Spooner admitted he loved to “pedal gently round on a well-boiled icicle.”

As the years passed. Spooner grew, probably without himself being aware of the fact, into a “character.” A hard worker himself, he detested idleness and is on record as having rent some lazybones with the gem, “You have hissed all my mystery lessons and completely tasted two whole worms.”

With his kindly outlook on life, it was almost natural for him to take holy orders: he was ordained a deacon in 1872 and a priest in 1875. His unique idiosyncrasy never caused any serious trouble and merely made him more popular. On one occasion, in New College chapel in 1879, he announced smilingly that the next hymn would be “Number One seven five – Kinkering Kongs their Titles Take.” Other congregations were treated to such jewels as “…Our Lord, we know, is a shoving Leopard…” and “…All of us have in our hearts a half-warmed fish to lead a better life…”

Spooner often preached in the little village churches around Oxford and once delivered an eloquent address on the subject of Aristotle. No doubt the sermon contained some surprising information for his rustic congregation. For after Spooner had left the pulpit. an idea seemed to occur to him, and he hopped back up the steps again. “Excuse me, dear brethren,” he announced brightly, “I just want to say that in my sermon whenever I mentioned Aristotle, I should have said Saint Paul.”

By 1885 the word “Spoonerism” was in colloquial use in Oxford circles, and a few years later, in general use all over England. If the dividing line between truth and myth is often only a hairsbreadth, does it really matter? One story that has been told concerns an optician’s shop in London. Spooner is reputed to have entered and asked to see a “signifying glass.” The optician registered polite bewilderment.

“Just an ordinary signifying glass,” repeated Spooner, perhaps surprised at the man’s obtuseness.

“I’m afraid we haven’t one in stock. but I’ll make inquiries right away, sir,” said the shopkeeper, playing for time. “Oh, don’t bother, it doesn’t magnify, it doesn’t magnify,” said Spooner airily. and walked out.

Fortunately for Spooner, he made the right choice when he met his wif-to-be. He was thirty-four years old when he married Frances Goodwin in 1878. The marriage sas a happy one, and they had one son and four daughters. Mrs. Spooner was a tall, good-looking girl, and on one occasion the family went on a short holiday in Switzerland. The “genial Dean,” as he was then called, look a keen interest in geology, and in no time at all he had mastercd much information and many technical definitions on the subject of glaciers.

One day at lunchtime the younger folk were worried because their parents had not returned from a long walk. When Spooner finally appeared with his wife, his explana-tion was: “We strolled up a long valley, and when we turned a corner we found ourselves completely surrounded by erotic blacks.” He was, of course, referring to “erratic blocks,” or large boulders left around after the passage of a glacier.

In 1903 Spooner was appointed Warden of New College. the highest possible post for a Fellow. One day walking across the quadrangle, he met a certain Mr. Casson, who had just been elected a Fellow of New College.“Do come to dinner tonight,” said Spooner, “we are welcoming our new Fellow, Mr. Casson.” “But, my dear Warden, I am Casson,” was the surprised reply.“Never mind. never mind. come along all the same,” said Spooner tactfully.

On another occasion in later years when his eyesight was really very bad, Spooner found himself seated next to a most elegant lady at dinner. In a casual moment the latter put her lily- white hand onto the polished table, and Spooner, in an even more casual manner, pronged her hand with his fork, remarkmg genially, “My bread, I think.”

In 1924 Spooner retired as Warden. He had established an astonishing record of continuous residence at New College for sixty-two years – first as undergraduate, then as Fellow, then Dean, and finally as Warden. His death in 1930, at the age of eighty-six, was a blushing to collectors of those odd linguistic transpositions known by then throughout the English-speaking world as Spoonerisms.

William Spooner Donald, a retired officer of the Royal Navy, lives in Cumberland, England

Laura · February 24, 2021, 2:02am

My favorite attributed to him was, “Madam, I believe that pew is taken – may I sew you to another sheet?”

Randy · February 24, 2021, 9:25am

We love Spoonerisms in our family! My dad started it by calling peanut butter, “neaput butter.” I ask my kids to take their plates to the “wishdasher,” and tell them that their bleeding scrape after a fall “makes my wees kneak.” We try to work them into other areas of conversation, too…like reading the announcements on the front screen at church aloud before the service. It makes things lighthearted. Thanks for bringing this up, @Dale.

Mervin_Bitikofer · February 24, 2021, 11:50am

It’s good to know we’re not alone. I remember a carload of people being mildly amused as we passed a Food Mart, and I turned that one into a Spoonerism.

I really enjoyed the “riding the well-boiled icicle”. Thanks for that!

jpm · February 24, 2021, 3:30pm

I occasionally cook snakes on the grill. Chicken fried snake is a common menu item in these parts.

Dale · February 24, 2021, 5:52pm

On a similar note…

Laura · February 24, 2021, 5:55pm

I used to get excited every time PBS aired the Victor Borge videos… he’s hilarious!

Dale · February 24, 2021, 7:27pm

You would also like playing with Oofengloofish, especially with children. It’s a ‘secret’ language like pig Latin, but more fun, I think. It’s simple in concept, and easier to hear than speak, at first. You just put an ‘oof’ before every vowel sound. So ‘English’ is, guess what, ‘Oofengloofish’. My older boy when he was little figured out pretty fast what ‘ooficecroofeam’ was.

And after some practice, you can play with Ipenglipish and Openglopish, Imenglimish and …

Has anyone else run across it in their travels, maybe @Christy? My wife learned it in college in the 60s, along with some other stuff.

MarkD · February 24, 2021, 6:17pm

Do you buy them de-fanged?

SkovandOfMitaze · February 25, 2021, 5:53pm

This is more of a theological joke. Loosely. It made me laugh when I read it.

George RR Martin is waiting for his editor, Jesus Christ, to comb one last time through “ Winds of Winter”.

Mervin_Bitikofer · February 28, 2021, 1:04am

Hey all … get entertained and educated all at the same time with this 20 minute video of Mark Rober learning to deal with bird-feeder-robbing squirrels in his back yard. It’s so well done.

Randy · February 28, 2021, 5:11pm

OK, I live under a rock. I seriously had to look up “George RR Martin.” I know now his books led to “Game of Thrones,” though I’ve never watched it. I know there were a couple of kingdoms, including a cold one. Can you clarify? Or is it too involved? Sorry. Thanks.

SkovandOfMitaze · February 28, 2021, 5:28pm

Just joking about how it takes him “forever” to write his next book. Been waiting for like 7 years for the next one and the one before that , in the series, came out when I was probably still a teenager.

Dale · February 28, 2021, 10:15pm

I’m with @Randy – the winds made a whoosh sound… right over my head.